


Let It Snow

by tryalittlejoytomorrow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryalittlejoytomorrow/pseuds/tryalittlejoytomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's third favorite TV trope had always been "snowed in".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HawthorneWhisperer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/gifts).



> A very happy new year to y'all, but mostly a happy birthday to my darling @hawthornewhisperer. Hope you enjoy this! :)

Clarke stood at her closet, her suitcase open and still empty on her bed as the clock ticked ten minutes before Bellamy was supposed to fetch her. Raven hovered at her door, arms crossed over her chest and a smirk tugging at her lips. "Stop being a baby and pack your damn things, Griffin," she snorted before sprawling on Clarke's bed, bracing herself with her elbows. "Bellamy's gonna be all cranky if you're not ready."

"Bellamy's always cranky," Clarke snapped as she threw a plaid shirt at Raven's face. "You could always help me, you know," she added.

"Nope," Raven shook her head. "You should have packed last night instead of avoiding it like the big baby you are." Clarke turned around to argue, but her roommate interrupted her by raising a pointed finger at her. "Don't force me to go all Molly Weasley on you, Griffin. Bellamy will be there soon and you're about to spend a seven hour drive with him, and you're gonna be nice about it. You're not gonna freak out, you're gonna be your natural smart, sassy self, and everything will be okay."

"Or you could tell him I'm sick?" Clarke pleaded, puppy look and blinking lashes as she leaned her head against her closet door.

Raven laughed, not unkind but amused. "Stop being such a drama queen," Raven teased her gently. "I'm _not_ taking you with me at Wick's mom's, so suck it up. And forget plaid, for real," she added with disgust as she threw the shirt back at Clarke. "Bellamy's not gonna want to fuck you if you dress like you're from District 7."

"Hey, Johanna Mason's _hot_ ," Clarke argued, a small smile gracing her lips.

"When she's _naked_ , yeah," Raven countered as she sauntered over to Clarke and grabbed a couple of camisoles in her closet. "These will make your boobs look amazing," she said, serious, as she worried her bottom lip and looked for clothes.

"I'm _not_ planning on getting laid at Octavia's house," Clarke rolled her eyes.

"Not with that attitude. It's a miracle Bellamy loves you with how little you try," Raven bumped her with her hip, before pressing a loud peck on her cheek. "Don't even try to argue. He loves you, you've finally gotten your head out of your ass and realized you want to jump him, so just do it for fuck's sake."

And with that, Raven sauntered out.

 

* * *

 

The whole story was so goddamn cliché Clarke wanted to punch herself in the face.

Long story short, Bellamy needed a date for his school's end-of-year party for totally _logical_ reasons; they had fun, Bellamy was charming, Clarke clung to his arm more than she needed to, and _of course_ a not-so-fake kiss ensued. It was short and soft and sweet and fucking _perfect_ , the kind of stupid, perfect, life-altering kiss with goddamn fireworks and shivers down her spine. _For real_.

That was four days ago, so of course it'd been all Clarke could think about. Bellamy had shown no evidence whatsoever of being affected by it, and the euphoria that came from Clarke's epiphany had been short-lived. Raven had had to stand four excruciatingly long days of listening to Clarke whine about how stupid she'd been because of course she was in love with Bellamy, like, he was one of her best friends and he was her anchor and he was always there to yell at her when she needed but also to cuddle in front of Netflix and he had super amazing warm and strong arms to cuddle in and maybe she'd had a dream or two about his hands, what the hell.

(Besides, there _was_ a reason why fake-dating was her favorite trope in romcoms.)

Long story short, she was fucked.

 

* * *

 

Clarke wasn't ready by the time Bellamy arrived. He hovered at her door, like Raven had, a soft, fond smile on his lips, and all Clarke wanted was to grab him by his stupid, preppy collar and kiss him for about five hours.

Yeah, _beyond_ fucked.

 

* * *

 

"...And apparently Penny's _Frozen_ phase is still going strong because she wants to name the baby Olaf. O's going crazy. And _you're_ not listening to me," Bellamy chuckled as he suddenly tilted his head to her.

Clarke froze like a deer caught in the headlights, her eyes shooting up from where they were focused on Bellamy's hands on the steering wheel to his face. "What? Of course I'm listening. Penny's in love with a boy named Olaf, O's going crazy," she babbled, realizing as she spoke that she might have mixed some stuff up.

Bellamy laughed goodheartedly, reaching out to pat her knee. "You look tired. You can sleep, you know, I'll just talk to myself. O always says I love hearing my own voice anyway."

Clarke shook her head, but huddled deeper in her seat anyway, her legs tucked to herself as much as she could, and she slipped her hands beneath her cheek to keep from playing with the hair that curled at the nape of Bellamy's neck or his stupid collar. "I'm fine," she replied with a poorly concealed yawn. "I'm so _done_ with _Frozen_. I love that kid, I swear, but it took me an hour to undo all the knots in my hair the last time I let Penny braid it like Elsa's."

"You looked cute, though," Bellamy said softly, and Clarke felt her cheeks flush because of course she was _that_ girl now. "At least you didn't have to crouch on all fours and wear antlers all night," he pretended to groan, but Clarke knew better. There was nothing Bellamy wouldn't do for his niece.

Which only added to the list of reasons why spending a week at Octavia and Lincoln's for Christmas _wasn't_ a good idea. First, with a second baby on the way, the second guest-room had been turned into a nursery which meant Clarke would have to share a bed with Bellamy; it had happened before, of course, but that was before _the kiss_ and Clarke definitely couldn't call Octavia and tell her about it. So, a week in Bellamy's bed it was. Second, was Octavia's inner sixth sense for any change in the mood; Clarke was sure that the younger Blake would smell crazy, stupid love on her the moment they'd pass the threshold. And third, the combined hot and adorable factor of Bellamy taking care of his niece.

(For real, Clarke didn't know how she could have not realized it sooner. Second favorite trope ever? Guy with kid and girl throwing herself at him because of hormones, because that only happened in movies right, real women didn't do that. _Ha. Ha_.)

 

* * *

 

She fell asleep to Bellamy humming _Let It Go_.

 

* * *

 

_1.15PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_If you're still wearing underwear I'm disappointed in your life choices._

 

_1.48PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_I'll take your silence as a hopeful sign that you're getting laid. Get it girl._

 

_2.30PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_Okay come on. SHARING IS CARING. Bellamy has a nice dick, I would know._

 

_2.33PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_WICK READ OVER MY SHOULDER AND HE'S BEING A BABY ABOUT BELLAMY'S DICK._

 

_2.34PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_THAT CAME OUT WRONG._

 

_4.07PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_Call me for fuck's sake, Wick got me worried about a blizzard or some shit. CALL ME._

 

_4.10PM_

_Kyle Wick_

_Please answer Raven's texts or she'll go mad. Madder than she already is, that is. Let us know you guys are safe._

 

* * *

 

"Clarke, wake up. Raven wants proof you're still alive. Come on."

Clarke felt fingers against her cheek, and scrunched her nose. "Five more minutes," she mumbled as she leaned into Bellamy's touch.

"I thought you weren't tired," Bellamy laughed. His hand slipped from her face to her shoulder, and he rubbed her back softly. "Okay, listen, the weather got terrible while you were sleeping, and the main roads are blocked."

"Wait, what?" Clarke's eyes opened wide as she sat up straight, Bellamy's hand falling at her arm. They were parked near a motel, and everything was covered in snow, the roofs and the ground shiny white alike. "How long have I been sleeping?" Clarke asked, incredulous.

"Almost three hours," Bellamy shrugged. He'd put his coat on, and Clarke realized she was covered with a blanket. "I didn't have the heart to wake you up and switch, and then it started snowing and your phone kept buzzing and then O called. She said she'd kill me if I tried to drive in that weather, and Raven said she'll cut off my dick if I get you killed in the blizzard, so, here we are," he grinned, tilting his head to the motel.

_Here we fucking are indeed._

 

* * *

 

There were two beds. Clarke didn't know if she felt relieved or disappointed.

 

* * *

 

_4.55PM_

_Clarke Griffin_

_FUCK THIS BLIZZARD._

 

_4.58PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_Why are you complaining? You didn't want to get laid at Octavia's because #morals, here's your opportunity._

 

_5.01PM_

_Clarke Griffin_

_Yeah, sure, because it'd be such a good idea to throw myself at him now._

 

_5.03PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_Like he's not fucking begging for it._

 

_5.05PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_Come on, don't be stupid, Griffin. He wants you, you want him, have yourself a merry, sexy little Christmas._

 

_5.15PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_COME ON._

 

_5.18PM_

_Raven Reyes_

_You're no fun._

 

* * *

 

Clarke was just coming out of a warm shower when Bellamy came back, red nose and snowflakes caught in his hair, the goddamn asshole. "I got us almost everything at the store," he said, and dropped his bags on the table in the corner. "The guy at the reception desk says they should clear snow from the roads in the morning."

Clarke sat on her bed, drying her hair with a towel. "If it ever stops snowing," she sighed. They'd been there for only an hour and Clarke was sure there was twice as much snow as before. A flurry of snowflakes kept blurring the view outside, and Octavia had called again, insisting that they stayed where they were no matter how much Penny whined in the background.

Bellamy let out a chuckle. "Aw, come on, princess. Did I say I got your favorite ice-cream?" he cajoled. "And all your Christmas favorites. I swear, I didn't get _Frozen_."

Clarke couldn't help smiling. Maybe cuddling with Bellamy until the next morning wouldn't be so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

Oh, it _was_.

It was, because Raven didn't stop texting her until Clarke turned off her phone, and Bellamy knew her so well he knew when to squeeze her tighter or when to give her a tissue because, _come on_ , nobody could watch _It's A Wonderful Life_ without crying. And Bellamy's stupid sweater was warm and smelled good, like his stupid cologne, and fuck, did normal friends really cuddle that much? Had she really been this blind all this time? Maybe friends could cuddle, but her heart was beating way too fast and she didn't know what to do with her hands, hold onto Bellamy tighter or tear off his stupid preppy shirt.

_Jesus_.

Her head on his chest, Clarke couldn't focus on the TV anymore, but only on the feeling of Bellamy's chest slowly rising and falling, the warmth of his arms, and the lingering taste of his lips. She'd never been that girl, but it was Christmas, and this kind of silly, corny, cheesy flutter of her heart was allowed.

"You okay?" Bellamy's voice startled her, as his hand moved up her back to her hair. "You're awfully silent."

"Just comfy," Clarke murmured as she absently nuzzled into him. Snow had this quality about it that made time stand still, and when she was younger Clarke loved nothing but to play in the snow but right now, warm and happy in Bellamy's arms, there was simply nothing to say and nothing to add.

His fingers dropped from her hair to her face, and he really needed to stop doing that because Clarke was about to explode. "It's nice, yeah," Bellamy said absently. "Our own little night before Christmas."

Clarke didn't know what urged her to say what she said next. _'Tis the season_ , maybe. "When you talk like that I don't know what to think."

Bellamy's fingers stilled at her cheek, and Clarke felt her stomach drop. She knew this wasn't going to end well. Damn Raven for pushing her to talk to Bellamy; damn Bellamy and his stupid party, damn stupid kiss, damn her stupid feelings. Fuck everything.

But then his fingers curled and tipped her chin up, and Clarke's eyes grew wide and her heart skipped a beat and Bellamy was kissing her, soft and sure and steady, and maybe it'd taken him a while too, but _fuck_ , who cared.

 

* * *

 

Clarke woke up to a dozen texts from Raven, and one from Wick, clearly written by Raven in hope that Clarke would open it; but mostly to Bellamy kissing down her bare shoulder, and suddenly Raven's annoying _I told you so_ didn't matter anymore.

 

* * *

 

"Oh my God, you guys did it!" Octavia shrieked.

Bellamy blushed even more than her.

 

* * *

 

(Penny was so upset that no one told her what it was that Uncle Bellamy and Auntie Clarke did, that Bellamy let braid his hair this time.)

 

* * *

 

_the end_

 


End file.
